


That Ass is Sweet Torture

by thingsKTsays



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, But only because Arthur rigged the voting system, M/M, Percival has the second best bum in Camelot, Wooing, attempts at romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1288300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingsKTsays/pseuds/thingsKTsays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See, the problem isn’t that Gwaine doesn’t like Percival. Nor is it that Percival doesn’t like Gwaine (which is an utterly ridiculous notion). The problem is that Gwaine doesn’t know what to <em>do</em> about it.</p><p>(In which Gwaine makes many attempts to woo Percival, none of which are successful, and Percival patiently waits to see if Gwaine is serious before making his move.)</p><p>Art by the most wonderful person in the world, onetobeamup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Ass is Sweet Torture

**Author's Note:**

> First off, a HUGE thank-you to KimliPan and SamsJam, who are two of the most wonderful people in the world and who were amazing enough to run this Bang. I'm so incredibly happy that I joined.
> 
> Art created by the incomparable onetobeamup. You have spoiled me rotten, dear, and I see nothing but amazing things in our future collaborations.
> 
> Beta-read by the awesome flyaway2132.

Look, let’s get one thing straight, okay?

Gwaine isn’t stupid. He really isn’t, despite what Princess Pratface (thank you, Merlin, for that perfect epithet) might say. He isn’t stupid, or constantly drunk (please, he has a high enough tolerance for the terrible ale they brew in Camelot. He’s always drinking, not drunk – there’s a difference, ok?), and he is definitely not completely oblivious.

Which is why he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Percival is way into him. Like, braiding flowers into Gwaine’s hair and holding hands and comparing biceps and whatever-the-fuck-Percival-thinks-of-as-romantic into him.

Seriously, way into him.

And Gwaine, well – Gwaine is actually kind of stupid, but not too stupid to realize that Percival is awesome. Completely awesome. From his huge arms to his huge chest and his huge thighs and his huge – look, let’s just say that Percival is remarkably proportional and Gwaine really admires that in a man.

Proportion. It’s, you know, a good marker of a great man or something.

But there’s also Percy’s – _Don’t call me Percy, Gwaine_ – calm disposition, the way he wields his sword, the thorough and obviously metaphorical way he polishes said sword, his shy but vapid smile…

Well, not vapid, but… okay, it totally looks a little vapid, but you can’t have everything, right?

See, the problem isn’t that Gwaine doesn’t like Percival. Nor is it that Percival doesn’t like Gwaine (which is an utterly ridiculous notion). The problem is that Gwaine doesn’t know what to do about it.

Not the doing it part, mind you. Gwaine knows how to do it every way from Sunday, thank you; that isn’t the issue.

The issue is that Percival is a friend - a really good one, in fact - and Gwaine is pretty sure that he’s extremely monogamous. Like, Lancelot levels of monogamous.

Gwaine doesn’t even know what monogamous _means_.

“It means you don’t sleep with other people while you’re with him, Gwaine.” Merlin tries to pull the sheet up over his shoulders. “Now, can you please get out of my chambers? How did you even get in here?”

Gwaine folds his hands behind his head, one elbow glancing – “Ow!” – across the side of Merlin’s head as he settles in position.

“So you mean that if he’s out on patrol I can still tumble wenches, right?”

Merlin sighs, as if Gwaine is severely inconveniencing or some rubbish like that, and shifts on the tiny bed, trying to make Gwaine move over so he can roll over onto his back. Gwaine doesn’t move.

“No. Don’t ask stupid questions,” Merlin says with his back to Gwaine, which is just completely rude, honestly. “And don’t call them wenches.”

Gwaine looks up at the ceiling, mouth turned down in a devastatingly attractive frown.

“Urgh, I know. Just – no more silly noblewomen, or cute servants, or fumbling around behind the tavern – it’s a hard concept to stomach.” Gwaine turns his body toward Merlin, wrapping an arm around his skinny chest and rubbing his fingers against Merlin’s ribs. “Do you think he’s worth it?”

“Please stop touching my nipple immediately.” How Merlin makes a polite request sound exactly like someone issuing a death sentence is beyond Gwaine, and fairly frightening – at least until Gwaine remembers that this is _Merlin_ and promptly dismisses the entire thought. “Of course he’s worth it; have you seen Percival? He has such a huge –”

“Oi! That’s my future lover you’re talking about!” Gwaine is scandalized that sweet, innocent Merlin would think to _look at_ , never mind talk about the size of a man’s…Well, clearly the only suitable response left is to twist Merlin’s nipple (since his hand is apparently already right there) and then tickle him into submission.

Just as Gwaine’s really stepping into his stride, moments away from victory, Gaius’ irritated voice comes from outside the door. Gwaine and Merlin immediately freeze and obediently quiet down. Gwaine still sneaks in another nipple pinch, because he totally would have won if Merlin didn’t squeal like a little girl and get them caught.

“Heart. He has such a huge heart, is what I was going to say, so why don’t you go and think of the best way to worm your annoying self into it." Merlin lies still after delivering his unknowingly brilliant suggestion. 

This is exactly why Gwaine came to Merlin – not for the insults, obviously, but – Merlin is wise at the weirdest times, mostly without even realizing it. He’s precious like that, really. So silly and dumb, chasing after the Princess all day, but then BOOM! Wisdom and the answer to all of Gwaine’s problems in one off-hand comment.

Gwaine seriously considers kissing him. 

“Why don’t you go and think of this away from here? As in not in my bed, or in my room, or even – let’s just go with nowhere near my part of the castle, okay? Okay. _Good night_ , Gwaine.”

When Merlin pushes him off of the bed, Gwaine is glad he didn’t bestow a kiss on him, because getting pushed out of bed after you kiss someone? Well, that’s just humiliating (especially when someone as tiny as Merlin manages it).

Gwaine stands with dignity, flipping his hair and flashing a blinding grin as he turns to leave Merlin’s chambers.

He has a lot to plan.

\---

So far the plan is going horribly. Or the plan is horrible, but how was Gwaine to know it would backfire like this? For the record, the plan did not involve Gwaine throwing up on Percival’s shoes. In fact, Gwaine’s quite sure that vomiting has absolutely no place in any of his plans ever, let alone his very well thought out and absolutely fool-proof designs to get himself into Percival’s arms.

Although, considering that Percival is practically carrying Gwaine out of the Rising Sun, he did at least manage that part of the plan, even if that part was supposed to happen in a bed and after some extremely satisfying physical activity.

Clearly, Gwaine vastly underestimated Percival’s alcohol tolerance. It’s also possible he may have overestimated his own. Just a little bit.

“We should have sex. Right now. A lot.”

“You have puke in your beard.”

Trying to get Percival drunk and amorous was a stupid plan, anyway.

\---

Okay, okay. Obviously outright propositioning him is the wrong way to go. Gwaine needs to be more subtle. He needs to be _smooth_. He needs to charm the pants off of Percival. Literally, if he’s lucky. And this, this is the perfect opportunity: a hunting trip, just Gwaine and Percival and the wild outdoors. Well, and Merlin, Merlin’s scowling royal shadow, a couple of pompous knights (excepting Elyan and the adorable wee Mordred, of course, they’re not pompous)…

The point still stands. This is the perfect opportunity. Now Gwaine just has to take advantage. Of the opportunity, obviously, not Percival, because Percival could break both of Gwaine’s arms easily. Not that he would, mind you, Percival is too nice for that, it’s just that –

Look, Merlin explained this to Gwaine, alright? And if Gwaine wants this _thing_ to work out with Percival, then Gwaine has to act like a gentleman, and treat Percival like a gentleman as well.

Gwaine can totally handle that.

For example, he’s currently riding alongside Percival, making absolutely no lewd remarks or blatantly propositioning him in any way. In all honesty, while Gwaine is going into overdrive with the hair swishing and flashing his winning smile, the conversation between the two is rather strained. And by strained, Gwaine means non-existent. Percival is pretty quiet normally, but Gwaine is used to filling up the silence easily, talking about everything and anything – normally his past conquests in the bedroom (and back alley, and deserted hallways in the castle, and… oh). Oh.

Maybe the silence is understandable, then. So Gwaine should just think of something else to say, right? Easy.

\---

Not easy.

Gwaine spends the entire ride to the forest desperately trying to think of something to say, something casual and friendly and inviting and flirty and _nothing_. He can’t think of one single thing. To make it worse, Percival has started shooting him concerned looks.

So not only is Gwaine completely failing at the art of conversation (which he _excels_ at, thank you), now he’s worrying the man he wants to take home to meet his mother (metaphorically, obviously. He wouldn’t take his worst enemy home to meet that vicious harpy).

Great. This is just great. And now it’s too late to say anything since the Princess has decreed it’s time to dismount and stalk bunnies or whatever. Percival stands shoulder to shoulder with Gwaine as Arthur gives his instructions via hand signals (which really just boil down to ‘shut up, go away; I’m trying to impress Merlin’ over and over again until the knights move out).

As luck would have it, the direction Gwaine chooses to go off in just happens to be the same one Percival is moving towards. Leon leads Elyan and Lancelot in the other direction, grabbing the hem of Mordred’s cape and giving it a firm tug when he tries to follow Gwaine and Percival. Yes. Luck.

Gwaine ignores Leon’s obvious and completely unwarranted winking with great poise and dignity, following Percival’s glorious behind through the trees. Once they’re far enough away from where Merlin and Arthur are flirting over crossbow bolts, Gwaine steps up to walk beside Percival (which, while being awesome because he can now see Percival’s beautiful jawline, well… Percival isn’t known as having the second-best bum in Camelot for nothing, you know? Seriously, that _ass_ ), with the hopes of engaging in Important and Riveting Conversation with the end goal of planting the ‘Gwaine is a Good Idea’ seed in Percival’s head.

Except now Gwaine is just thinking of Percival’s ass. And that is really not something he wants to discuss with Percival. Okay, well he totally would like to tell Percival all about what his ass does to him and what he wants to do to his ass and no, stop thinking about his ass, Gwaine, because _gentlemanly behaviour, Gwaine_.

Oh gods, he is so bad at this. He should have created a much more detailed plan. Seriously, how did he think _be subtle, be suave_ was foolproof? There is no substance to that plan!

Okay, be smooth. He can do that, at least.

Maybe.

He pulls in front of Percival, taking the lead with a charming smile, and things are getting better. Percival smiles back, all crinkled eyes and adorable dimples, and now Gwaine has nothing to focus on but the path ahead, Percival’s ass firmly out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Except now Percival has a perfect view of Gwaine’s ass. Would he look? Is he watching the sway of Gwaine’s hips, mesmerized, just like Gwaine had been doing a moment ago? I mean, Gwaine has a pretty fantastic ass. Definitely Camelot Top Ten (Top Five, even). So it would be completely awesome if Percival was staring at Gwaine’s ass, _but is he_?

Gwaine stealthily peeks over his shoulder and finds Percival staring intently at him, lips parted slightly and eyes hooded. Gwaine’s steps falter, because that is definitely a bedchamber look. That is a look you give to someone, in your bedchamber, right before you climb on top of them and _Percival is licking his lips and staring at Gwaine’s and they are totally going to kiss right now_.

“Wait.” Percival moves forward, pressing up against Gwaine’s back and holding him in place with a hand wrapped around his hip, fingertips tiny pressure points on top of his clothes. The top of Gwaine’s head brushes Percival’s chin, and when Percival whispers “ _don’t move_ ” he feels it as the breath of air rustles his hair, he feels it in the rumble of Percival’s chest against his back, and he feels – he feels – that is – _that is the tip of Percival’s – pressed right against the top of his ass and –_

There are no words to describe how happy Gwaine is that they aren’t wearing chainmail right now. No words at all. Mainly because Gwaine is absolutely speechless and so turned on and he’s happy they aren’t wearing armour but _imagine if they were naked_. They could be naked and pressed together and if Gwaine wriggled his hips then maybe Percival would let him but _maybe he wouldn’t_. Maybe he would dig his fingers in, hold Gwaine still. But the squirming would have caused Percival’s hand to slip inwards, nails catching on the thatch of soft hair when he pins Gwaine in place. His hand would be right there, so close, and Gwaine is blindingly hard right now. Percival would tilt his head down and murmur right into Gwaine’s ear, sending shivers through Gwaine’s body, and he would say “ _bandits_!” in a…slightly panicked and extremely serious tone?

Wait, what?

Gwaine opens his eyes (and when had he closed them?) and looks around. Oh.

Bandits. Right.

Gwaine drops his head and glares at his erection.

Everything sucks.

\---

If Gwaine were King, his first decree would definitely be to eliminate morning training, because apparently when Arthur says ‘morning,' he really means ‘barely past dawn.' But it’s okay. It is. Gwaine has a _plan_.

Or, since he already has a plan, he has a sub-plan. Part D, maybe? Attempt 6? It doesn’t matter. He’s got this. This is, hands down, his best plan yet. The flaw with all of his earlier plans? They weren’t things he would do, normally. I mean, he normally wouldn’t do things specifically in _that_ way to woo Percival. Not that he normally does things to woo Percival, except recently, where he has been wooing in a way he normally wouldn’t. Which obviously isn’t working for Percival.

Anyways.

The point is that Gwaine has forgotten his core values. He has neglected to be true to himself. He has ignored the fact that Percival likes him for a reason, and that reason is not because of drunken advances or stilted non-conversation while on horseback. And don’t worry: Gwaine knows exactly why Percival fell for him.

You see, Percival is a being of strength – really intense, crazily strong… strength. And obviously, that is what would have drawn him in about Gwaine – seeing some of that strength reflected back.

So what Gwaine has to do now, at this insanely unlawful hour (because it _should_ be against the law to be up this early) on the training fields, is remind Percival how fantastic and skilled he is with a sword, and a mace, and whatever else Arthur has them working with this morning.

“Alright men, we’re going to mix it up a little. Start running laps and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Gwaine’s jaw nearly drops.

Arthur waits a very, very long time until he tells them to stop running, and he spends the entire time standing at the edge of the field, talking and laughing with Merlin. Gwaine hates him, a little bit.

Running in full armour for over an hour really does take the romance out of the day, though, and Gwaine postpones all seduction plans until he is able to properly breathe and can feel his feet.

Maybe tomorrow he’ll have more luck.

He can’t seduce anyone with his hair matted with sweat, anyway.

\---

The knights get a lie-in after their grueling training session the day before, where after all of that running they stopped for water and then…started running again.

Gwaine strongly suspects that Merlin and Arthur had bet money on who would pass out first (Mordred), and yeah, he still kind of despises them both.

But today! Today is turning out great. He had a fantastic breakfast, his hair has just the right amount of curl and bounce and swish, and Arthur has promised that they’ll be sparing for today’s practice and that’s it.

Gwaine can finally reacquaint Percival with his fine fighting form. This is going to be flawless.

When they get to the sparring, Gwaine makes sure that he and Percival are in each other’s eye-line, and then gets to work. It’s time to flash his muscles and decimate Elyan.

It goes well, at first. Gwaine is amazing at those fancy twirls Arthur favours, the ones that flex all of his arm muscles without much effort, their only use being to show off and draw attention. Gwaine sees Percival’s eyes flick to him, and he knows that finally, something about this whole thing will go right. He faces off against Elyan, preparing to destroy him with the most beautiful swordsmanship Camelot has ever seen, when a glimpse at Percival stops him in his tracks. Percival is – _Percival is doing the sword twirly thing too_ , and Percival is smirking at Gwaine and Gwaine can’t. He just can’t.

Elyan’s sword sweeping across snaps him out of it, and Gwaine hastily knocks it away, using the motion of his block to lead into an attack, trying to fall into the rhythm of the fight, but something keeps drawing his attention away.  
It’s Percival, by the way. Percival is distracting Gwaine, with his sweat-covered muscles glistening in the sun, his determined expression, his precise footwork. Not to mention the sheer _power_ behind each blow, forcing Mordred to scramble back again and again, trying to recover ground and failing.

Gods, it’s just so beautiful to watch. Gwaine could seriously do this all day, especially when after a particularly good move Percival glances at Gwaine and sends him that _smirk_ again. This, Gwaine knows, is what he wants for the rest of his life. Him and Percival, bashing skulls and in love and laughing about everything – it really couldn’t get any better than that.

Gwaine has to smirk back, just to see what it would be like, just to imagine this potential future that’s practically in his grasp – 

\---

Okay, so here is what happened:

Elyan made the first move, which Gwaine blocked and parried. And then he just stopped. So Elyan waited a bit, seeing if Gwaine was going to quit mooning over Percival for a moment so that Gwaine could disarm him and Elyan would have done his duty to his fellow knight by making him look good in front of his man-love, or whatever (not that Gwaine knew that’s what Elyan was doing, but a guy has to help his bro out, right?).

Except Gwaine never looked back at Elyan. And really, this whole business was getting rather pathetic, and Elyan was embarrassed for Gwaine.

So he walked up beside the man and hit him over the head with the hilt of his sword. Gwaine dropped like a rock.

Honestly, it was oddly satisfying for Elyan.

\---

Rivers are really cold. Like, exceptionally freezing, and it is quite horrible when you want to wash while on patrol in the spring, but really sometimes you just have to suck it up or smell like rotting bandit for days on end, and there is no way that is happening.

So right now they’re all sucking it up and getting into the river. The water is a ball-curdling amount of cold until Merlin gets in, when it gets warmer and starts to almost reach lukewarm. Which is a bit weird, and obviously it’s a huge coincidence that a warm current just happened to hit them after Merlin got in and made a face of distaste at the temperature, but Gwaine isn’t complaining because now it’s getting to be more like a bath.

Gwaine starts rubbing off the blood coating his hands and face, and pretends not to be watching Percival do that same. But then Percival decides the rest of his body could do with a quick rinse too, and he’s rubbing his chest, and his abs, and then he’s standing up and turning away and rubbing up and down his thighs, up and down his thighs and Gwaine – 

Gwaine needs to sit down. Low in the water. And probably stay there for a while.

And really, Percival touching himself like that should be fully illegal and Gwaine just wants to lick the water off of his nipples and rub any potential sweat off of the swell of Percival’s ass and this is sweet torture.

That ass is sweet torture. Percival is a golden god and nothing is fair.

At this rate, Gwaine will spend the rest of his life hard and frustrated.

Percival bends over at the waist to dunk his head underwater and yes. Definitely not leaving the river for a while.

Gwaine pretends to be washing under his arms, stalling for time as everyone else finishes up. He really just needs everyone to go back to camp so he can deal with the problem Percival has caused.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Percival, Mordred, Arthur (and when did they get there? Gods, Gwaine has got to start paying attention to things other than Percival) and Merlin leave, after a look of varying curiosity from each of them and some blatantly not-suspicious scrubbing of his arms from Gwaine.

Now, he can get down to the business of getting down to business with himself.

Except that Merlin has left. And the river water is suddenly frigid again.

Well, at least Gwaine’s problem went away.

\---

Guarding Merlin and Gwen as they pick herbs in the forest is probably the easiest gig a knight can hope for, even if it does mean he has to spend the afternoon with Lancelot. Not that there’s anything wrong with Lancelot, obviously – Gwaine thinks Lancelot is great. It’s just that the only thing they really have in common besides swords is Merlin and the fact that they both have fantastic hair (Gwaine’s is much better, but then it’s hard to have hair as nice as Gwaine’s – even Gwen’s is only _almost_ as beautiful).

In the last hour they’ve kind of worn out the topic of Merlin, and Gwaine is quickly realizing that Lancelot has little to no interest in discussing his hair.

 _Gwen’s hair_ , on the other hand, is a completely different matter. It turns out that Lancelot can talk about the beauty of Gwen’s hair for quite a long time, much longer than Gwaine is comfortable with, really.

But then Gwaine realizes something - the look on Lancelot's face when he talks about Gwen (the slightly sickening love-struck gaze) is exactly the same as Gwaine's when he thinks about Percival!

(Except Gwaine doesn't look sickeningly in love. Even though this is all just theory, since Gwaine really has no idea what he looks like when thinking about Percival, Gwaine has never and will never look 'sickening'. Maybe 'enraptured' or 'adorable' or 'lustful', but never that. Ever.)

The point stands, though - Lancelot is in love with Gwen, and Gwaine is...very intensely interested in Percival, and a future with Percival. Maybe in a bit of a forever kind of way, if he's being honest with himself (which, when _feelings_ are involved, is not Gwaine's first choice). So really, who better to discuss the Percival situation with than Lancelot?

"So. Love. How's that been working out for you?" And that is _not_ how Gwaine wanted to say it. That is an invitation for Lancelot to wax poetic about Gwen's wonderful smile, and luscious locks of hair, and kind personality, and Gwaine knows all about that already, thanks, he doesn't want to hear it again.

"I mean, what's it like, being in love? When the other person acknowledges it?" That last part is definitely not what he meant to say either. This whole mess has turned Gwaine inside out, apparently. First not knowing what to say, now saying the wrong thing? What's next, saying too much? (This is an actual impossibility. There is no such thing as too much talking, as everyone who hears Gwaine speak is more than happy to lap up every word from his mouth. Fact.)  
"I'm going to hazard a guess and assume you're asking because of the dance you and Percival are engaged in."

Oh. Now Gwaine remembers why he doesn't talk to Lancelot. Lancelot is too much like Merlin, but less adorable and more smug. Not a good combination. And maybe he's not being obviously smug about _figuring out_ that Gwaine is asking because of Percival, but he is. He is.

Stupid smug bastard thinks he's so much better than Gwaine because he's _in touch with his feelings_ or whatever. Never mind, Gwaine was doing just fine with his intense affection for Percival and his plan and he doesn't need Lancelot or his help, he doesn't.

If he needs more advice, he'll just go to Merlin. Merlin's so cute, especially when he's bitchy.

Gwaine specializes in making Merlin bitchy - it's one of his many talents.

\---

It’s kind of weird to watch Percival and the Princess together. Weird in the way that it never used to be weird, before this whole thing with Percival started up, but now Gwaine gets this odd feeling in his chest whenever he sees them together. It reminds Gwaine of how he used to feel on the road, travelling from place to place and never settling down, watching countless people be happy with a home and a family and even when they weren’t happy, even when they were miserable, they still had those two things.

Somehow that always seemed to be enough for them.

And now, now Gwaine is getting that same feeling as before, except he has a home now, in Camelot, and he has a family, in his knights and Merlin, so why is he still feeling like this? It doesn’t make any sense.

When Percival says something Arthur laughs, throwing his head back and letting loose, and Percival smiles. It’s a small thing, a bit shy and a bit nervous, but it’s there and it’s for the Prince, _call me Arthur, call me Arthur_ , and why.

This is not how Gwaine wants to spend the day, feeling weird feelings (on top of all the other weird feelings he has for Percival, and honestly those are just way too many feelings to handle sober), so he struts over to Percival’s side and doesn’t stop until his whole body is brushing against Percival. A casual readjustment of his stance (only because he didn’t like the way he was standing) happens to put him slightly in front, slightly cutting out Arthur, slightly acting a bit ridiculous, but Gwaine doesn’t care.

Also, he isn’t being ridiculous. He’s just standing. Beside Percival. Like he always does.

“Percival was just telling me about –”

“Oh, yeah. He told me about that last week. You only found out now?” Gwaine has no idea what they’re talking about, but he’ll be damned if he’s the ignorant one who Percival didn’t share stories with. Percival should share everything with Gwaine first, and then maybe other people, and possibly (if his life depended on it) with Arthur.

That’s how it should be.

That it isn’t, is obviously a grievous oversight on Percival’s part, and should be rectified as soon as possible.

“Merlin was looking for you, my Lord. He said he had that cream for your rash. Come, Percival, let’s see what trouble we can find in the tavern.”

This is clearly not a bald-faced lie that Gwaine has made up to embarrass Arthur, who is looking quite red-faced, it must be said. He certainly does not look back and glare at the Prince when he tugs Percival away by his arm.

There’s just…sun in his eyes. Causing him to squint. And frown in Arthur’s general direction.

That’s it.

\---

So it’s like this:

Gwaine hasn’t slept for the last two nights, because apparently there are rats near Percival’s room and Percival hates rats and so now Percival is staying with Gwaine. And while awesome in theory, really Gwaine just spends every night staring at Percival’s profile as he sleeps right beside him, a tiny amount of space between them, and feels the crushing weight of how hopeless this whole quest is. He had really hoped that by this point he would have made some form of progress, anything. A kiss, a casual brush of hands, a whispered _yeah, I’d like that_ – anything would be better than this.

This space between them and words unspoken and a feeling as vast as the ocean and going nowhere and Gwaine is…

Gwaine is just about done. He’s going to try once more, and then he’s giving up, because if after all this time Percival has done nothing then Gwaine must have misunderstood somewhere along the way.

If this doesn’t work then it can only mean that Gwaine is the only one who is feeling this way.

(But it’s really like this:

Gwaine is pretty sure that if he can just get Percival into his room and sleeping, then the rest will work itself out. I mean, really – Gwaine, Percival, one bed and a whole night ahead of them? There’s only one outcome to that, right? Everyone is agreed? Gwaine just has to find a way to get Percival to need to sleep with him. In his room. Overnight. Which could hopefully, more than likely, lead to them _sleeping together_.

Another foolproof plan.

Hence, rats.)

\---

The rat problem clears up just in time for Gwaine to get a decent night’s rest before the annual tournament, which is both a blessing and a curse – as hard as it was to lay next to Percival all night, it was really nice to wake up beside him.

The tournament starts the way they all seem to, with Gwaine opting out of the jousting (because they don’t pay him anywhere near enough to make charging down and getting struck by a lance seem like something he wants to do, ever) and no one daring to opt out of the weapons combat for fear of Arthur’s wrath the next time they’re on the training ground. Merlin is looking a bit more stressed, whether because of all of the ridiculous demands Arthur is making of him or because something always seems to go wrong with these things is anybody’s guess.

The tournament moves along, and Gwaine wins with the sword and battles with the mace and he plans. He plans all day and all night as knights progress onwards and the final day of the tournament draws near.

And yeah, Gwaine said that last time was the last time but really, he can’t give up now. So he doesn’t.

See, what Gwaine realized was that Merlin was wrong. Merlin said to act like a gentleman and treat Percival like a gentleman and that’s all well and good, and yes, Percival is a gentleman through and through, but _Gwaine_ isn’t. And that has been the fatal flaw in this whole quest.

Gwaine isn’t a gentleman, Gwaine is a _lady_.

No, wait. That’s not quite what Gwaine means. Well it kind of is, but not in that context.

What it means is that Gwaine has to _woo_ Percival, and woo him as a lady would. And that is something that Gwaine can definitely do. _That_ is easy.

It’s as easy as breaking into Merlin’s chambers on the last day of the tournament, when Percival is jousting in the semi-final, and raiding his closet (his floor, really, since Merlin is a disgusting slob who really needs to clean his room).

Easier still is cornering Percival in his tent as he has his armour strapped on and kicking out the squire fussing with the buckles. This has everything to do with Gwaine’s Ultimate and Improved Plan and nothing to do with how the squire was taking much more time than needed with the buckles on Percival’s biceps.

The last buckle is tied, Percival’s sword in place, but Gwaine doesn’t hand over the helmet to complete the set. When Percival looks at him quizzically, Gwaine knows that this is it.

It’s time for Gwaine’s masterpiece. His Grand Finale, the courtship move to end all courtship moves. With a flourish and a beaming (yet coy! Court ladies are very coy) smile, Gwaine pulls out a scarf from his jacket and carefully wraps it around Percival’s sword arm. There! A proper token of affection from a lady of the court, and there is no way this can go wrong. Percival can’t possibly misinterpret this move. They stay silent for a moment, Gwaine holding the smile on his face while Percival looks deep into his eyes. _This is it_.

“Isn’t this the neckerchief Arthur gave Merlin last Yule?”

That isn’t quite what Gwaine wanted Percival to focus on. Before he can say anything, though, Percival laughs, a light chuckle that makes Gwaine’s heart stutter with fondness because that is his absolute favourite out of all of Percival’s laughs.

Reaching forward, Percival wraps his arms around Gwaine’s neck, and Gwaine knew this would work. He knew it. Finally, after all this time, he gets his kiss. He gets his answer. Gwaine’s eyes slip shut as he leans in, lips parting slightly.

Except Percival doesn’t kiss him. Instead, he gently unhooks the clasps on Gwaine’s necklace, the one he has never been without, and pulls it off. Gwaine’s eyes flutter open, disappointed, but what Percival does next nearly stops his breath.

Percival turns away from Gwaine and sits, back toward him. He holds one end of the necklace over each shoulder and tilts his head down, baring his neck.

“Tie it on?” Percival’s voice is gruffer than normal, quieter too, and absolutely serious.

Gwaine reaches over with shaking fingers and hooks the chain into the clasp. Percival is wearing his necklace. Percival is – Percival is wearing his _favour_. Percival is saying _yes_.

Gwaine can’t move.

Percival stands and retrieves his helmet, tucking the necklace securely under his armour. He moves to exit the tent, but pauses.

He places the softest, most perfect kiss on Gwaine’s lips before leaving, and Gwaine is still frozen.

Percival said _yes_.

The plan (which, it must be said, was less of a plan and more Gwaine stumbling hopelessly as he attempted romance) worked.

Gwaine smiles, and swaggers out to go watch Percival destroy his opponent.

It wouldn’t be proper to let his knight compete without his lady watching.

\---

So maybe Gwaine is kind of dumb, but now that he has Percival (Percival _kissed_ him, okay? Percival said _yes_ and Gwaine wins everything in the world) – now that he has Percival, he doesn’t need any advice from anyone else. He knows how to make his lover happy in and out of the bedroom, thank you very much (not that too much has been happening in the bedroom, but that’s okay – Gwaine doesn’t mind taking it slow). Percival’s happiness is why he and Gwaine are out in the fields, a basket full of food in Percival’s hand and a sack full of blankets thrown over Gwaine’s shoulder.

It is an inarguable fact that the key to any romance is a lovely picnic (just ask any Pendragon), and Gwaine has gone all out to make sure that this picnic is the most lovely. He pilfered the best meats from the kitchen for lunch, and some fruit and sweetmeats to go along with it. He grabbed some of the luxurious blankets that Arthur owns but never seems to use. And, most importantly, this picnic will be attended by the two most gorgeous knights in Camelot.

That means Gwaine and Percival, by the way, not that they found two other knights to join them on their romantic date. Not even the Princess would screw up a picnic date by bringing along a third or fourth person.

When they get to the clearing that Gwaine picked out during the planning stages (chosen specifically because of the distance from the castle, the view overlooking the forest, and the wildflowers growing all over), Gwaine spreads the blankets and collapses onto them, smiling up at Percival.

And Percival is so beautiful out here, he really is, with the sun turning his skin gold, his face relaxed and happy. He lies down beside Gwaine, the two of them leaning back to watch the clouds drift by, perfectly content to be exactly where they are. One of Gwaine’s legs is thrown over Percival’s, hooking them together; their hands are linked, fingers entwined, and Gwaine can’t help but slide his head over to rest against Percival’s shoulder.

This is, hands down, the happiest Gwaine has ever felt in his life. Seriously. He wishes they could spend every day doing this.

Percival brings the hand he’s holding to his lips, leaving a kiss there as Gwaine smiles.

Coming out here was such a great idea, and Gwaine is happy that he thought of it with absolutely no input from Arthur.

In the warm sunlight, with Percival lying beside him, Gwaine slowly drifts off without a care in the world.

He wakes to the feeling of Percival pulling at his hair, no longer lying beside him but sitting cross-legged above his head. And yeah, Gwaine likes having his hair pulled as much as the next guy, but Percival isn’t kissing him or groping him or doing anything which would normally go along with the hair-pulling. Needless to say Gwaine is a little confused, because it kind of seems like Percival is just playing with his hair. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Percival can play with his hair all he wants (Gwaine has fantastic hair, okay, and that will be a fact for all of time).

It’s just that now Gwaine is _curious_ , because what is Percival doing? There seems to be a pattern to it, a certain rhythm to the tugs, a pause, and then it starts back up again in a different spot. It’s not weird, it’s just…odd.

“When my sister was young, she used to say that only someone who truly loved you would braid flowers into your hair.” His voice is a low murmur, distant in that way Percival has when he talks about his family. “She thought it was the most beautiful thing, for someone to devote so much time to something that would only last a day, if that. All so that you would spend the rest of the day surrounded by happiness and life, and every time you saw the petals out of the corner of your eye it would bring a smile to your face.” Percival starts on another section of hair, fingers carefully braiding one flower in after another. “At eleven, she thought it was the true meaning of love, the height of romance.

“I just want to see you smile, even if for just one day.”

Gwaine swallows heavily (because a lot of saliva has pooled in his mouth, not because he’s too choked up to speak, obviously), and looks up into Percival’s eyes. He really does have wonderful eyes. And he’s smiling, and it doesn’t look vapid at all.

“You always make me smile, Percival. Always.”

They stay there, food forgotten, as the clouds pass by overhead.

And I told you, Gwaine isn’t stupid.

If he was, he wouldn’t have managed to find something that made him this happy.

He wouldn’t have managed to fall face-first in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr at [Things KT Says](http://thingsktsays.tumblr.com), and you should also check out [onetobeamup](http://onetobeamup.tumblr.com)'s tumblr as well!


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